


hello tomorrow (goodbye to yesterday)

by callunavulgari



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angry Sex, Break Up, Break up sex, Ending Relationship, F/M, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Violence, Polyamory, Sexual Violence, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t want to kill you, Percy,” Nico snarls, still gasping for breath. “But yeah, I want out. I’m throwing in the fucking towel.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	hello tomorrow (goodbye to yesterday)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antistar_e (kaikamahine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaikamahine/gifts).



> Once upon a time, I don't know how long because for some godforsaken reason the tumblr inbox doesn't have dates, antistar-e gave me the prompt: "703! Any fandom, any character, whatever you feel like, I'll read whatever you produce! /chinhands " for a music meme. The corresponding song was [Hello Tomorrow, by Zebrahead](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipuTjAv7rvg), which by all accounts should have been a Mark/Eduardo song + fic, but ended up being my favorite OT3 angsting all over each other because of the following lyrics:
> 
> Oceans, devotions, these notions run dry  
> Floating away and I don't know why  
> Spend all my days in a bottle thinking  
> You're like an anchor got me sinking 
> 
> So uh, I know this is months and months and months overdue and you've probably forgotten about it, but here you go!

Pissing off Percy Jackson—not irritation or annoyance, but truly _pissing him off_ is one of the hardest things to do. He takes most things with this cool kind of nonchalance, letting things that would have normal people spitting sparks just roll off his back, like water. It’s a quality that has always impressed you, because as level headed as you may be, your temper is about as fiery as they come.  
  
You don’t know if you’ve ever really seen him angry, not even when he was battling titans and taking knives in his back with a grain of salt. You’ll know when he’s angry, but he’ll always shrug it off before letting it get the better of him.  
  
No one pisses off Percy Jackson quite like Nico di Angelo.  
  
When you watch the two of them, you can’t help but think of puppies tumbling together, licking each other’s face and biting each others ears. For the most part, Nico’s good for the two of you. He isn’t around as much as either of you’d like, but when he does come back to you, he’ll crawl into bed between you, smelling like shadows and graveyard soil, and neither of you will hesitate before wrapping your arms around him.  
  
The three of you together is sweet as candy most of the time, though you’ll be the first to butt heads with one of them if they annoy you. You all hold each other up—you’re damn good in battle with them at your back—but when one of you buckles, you all fall.  
  
You don’t know what he’s done this time, just that when you let yourself into your home, Percy is shouting.  
  
You pause in the doorway, letting your keys drop onto the little end table by the door and shrugging off your coat and scarf. You don’t know what you’re walking into, but the first time you’d ever seen Percy pissed off, he’d flooded your apartment and nearly drowned Nico in the process.  
  
“Why would you even do that?” he’s shouting. Whatever Nico’s response is is muffled, but it makes Percy hiss like a cat on fire.  
  
“That makes no fucking sense, Nico!” he yells and you wince. Warily, you creep closer to the bedroom, refraining from kicking off your shoes. You might need them later.  
  
“Stop acting like a spaz, Percy, it wasn’t a big deal.”  
  
You flinch backwards when the faucet in the kitchen breaks, sending up a jet of water that narrowly misses the ceiling. That’s your cue.  
  
The bedroom is, quite frankly, a fucking wreck. There are pillows strewn everywhere, dirt on the floor, and part of the carpet seems to be wet.  
  
They’re both half naked, Percy in a pair of unbuttoned jeans and Nico in an oversized shirt that you think you recognize from Percy’s closet. Percy’s got Nico pinned to the bed, like they were in the middle of something before they started fighting. You don’t think they’re still planning on sex, but the three of you aren’t exactly unfamiliar with rougher than normal sex, so who knows.  
  
Either way, Percy’s red-faced, forearm braced against Nico’s neck. You watch Nico’s lashes flutter, his throat working as he tries to swallow past the obstruction, and you think that enough is enough.  
  
You’re about to say something when Percy speaks again, pushing down harder and letting a mean smirk curl across his feature when Nico chokes. “So you wanna leave us, huh? Is that what you want? You want Annabeth to find out that not everything’s peachy between us? Want her to realize that when she isn’t here, we fight worse than cats and dogs? That between us, we could level a _fucking_ building with how much we want to kill each other?”  
  
Nico gasps, hips canting up against Percy’s in a gesture you’ve seen a hundred times, in a hundred different places. You’re as familiar with the way Percy and Nico’s hips look together as you are with steel in your hand. This time’s different though, the intentions behind the gestures all skewed as Percy just grinds down cruelly, baring his teeth. “Well? I asked you a question!” Percy shouts, and you hear another pipe burst somewhere in the house.  
  
“I don’t want to kill you, Percy,” Nico snarls, still gasping for breath. “But yeah, I want out. I’m—” he huffs for breath, “—throwing in the fucking towel.”  
  
Something in Percy’s expression falters, a divot in the anger that makes Nico’s surge up against his—a push and pull as intimate as the relationship between the earth and the sea. Nico growls and lurches up, pushing their lips together in a kiss so fierce that you can hear their teeth clack together.  
  
They still haven’t noticed you yet, so caught up in devouring each other. You’ve never seen them like this, this _vicious_ , and you think that there’s a terrible truth in Percy’s hissed words—that whenever you turn your back on them they’re at each other’s throats.  
  
You stand there, stock still just behind the bedroom door and watch them tear at each other’s skin, clothes coming off like they’re on fire. It isn’t pleasant seeing them like this, rutting at each other with the intention to _hurt._ It’s nothing like the sleepy mornings when you’d wake up to them touching each other next to you and settle back to watch. It hurts, your chest pounding when Nico’s teeth leaves bloody indents against the meat of Percy’s shoulder.  
  
When they finally come, there’s a sick feeling roiling around in your gut—your chest all knotted up with pain and your eyes blurred with tears. They slump together, the fight finally gone out of them, and Nico strokes Percy’s hair—timidly, like he’s afraid he’ll get his hand bitten off.  
  
“What are we doing, Nico?” Percy asks with a sigh, leaning into Nico’s hand.  
  
Nico shrugs, wincing when the movement tugs at a particularly vicious bite mark. “Hell if I know,” he says.  
  
“Do you really want to leave us?” Percy’s voice is small, smaller than you’ve ever heard it. He sounds like a kid like this and the sound of it makes your throat clench up.  
  
When Nico laughs, he sounds broken. “We can’t keep on like this, Percy, even for Annabeth’s sake and you know it. We’ll kill each other and bring the whole damn world down with us. I—” he falters, one hand going to his mouth to muffle a sob. “I think I need to leave. For awhile at least. I—I don’t think I’ll ever be over you, Percy Jackson, but I need to try.”  
  
“So it’s goodbye then,” Percy says, utterly deadpan.  
  
“For now,” Nico says. “I won’t lie to you, Percy. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back—moving on and keeping it together will be hard enough.”  
  
Percy nods, and like an afterthought asks, “What are you gonna tell Annabeth?”  
  
Nico’s hands go still, his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know,” he whispers, quiet as the grave.  
  
“You still love her, don’t you?” The _even if you don’t love me_ goes unspoken.  
  
Nico laughs and it sounds like glass in his throat. “God yes, she’s the only thing keeping me here and you know it.”  
  
“Then stay,” Percy goes, like it’s that easy. “You can get an apartment or something, tell her you need some space. She can stay over at yours sometimes, that way you don’t have to see me.”  
  
Nico props himself up on the pillows a bit, eyes wide. “Are you seriously suggesting that we split our time with her like that?” He snorts. “You get custody, but I get her on the weekends?”  
  
Percy rolls his eyes and slaps the back of Nico’s head. “Way to make it creepy, dude. But yeah, why not? Most poly couples don’t exactly all jump into bed together. Some take turns with their mutual lover, schedules and everything.”  
  
They’re quiet for a long moment. “Do you really think that would work?” Nico asks, voice small. “Do you think _she_ would want that?”  
  
“I’ll tell you what she wouldn’t want—she wouldn’t want you rotting away in the Underworld, all alone because we couldn’t get our shit together. She wouldn’t want you to be alone just because the three of us can’t be together right now, and you know what? Neither would I.”  
  
Quietly, you backtrack to the front door, gather up your keys as you’re brushing tears away from your eyes. You jingle them for a moment, then open the door and shut it again.  
  
“I’m home,” you call, trying to hide the quaver in your voice.  
  
You aren’t being a coward, you think. You aren’t a liar just because you don’t want to deal with this right now. They’ll tell you when they want, whether that’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now. And when they do, you’ll be ready.  
  



End file.
